Author: sptloustalot

There is only one person on this Earth that would pull me away from my kid for a night. Her name is Taylor. Freaking. Swift.

I had fought with myself for weeks, having a mental tennis match with my conscience. As badly as I wanted to go to this concert, did I really want to leave Winnie for a night? Was she ready? Was I ready?? What would people say about me leaving her to go to a concert? How would pumping work? Could I time out my sessions so I wouldn’t miss any fun? Would my boobs explode?  What will I wear that would even look good on my new body? Would I always regret missing this once in a lifetime concert? Would I regret losing 30 hours with my baby who will never be this little again? I was honestly overwhelmed with “what ifs” and the lack of answers to my unending questions.

Ultimately, I decided that this concert would be the perfect first outing away from Winnie. It was only one night, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and Winnie would be just fine with William. The Reputation Tour was supposed to be incredible, and my best friend worked her butt off to get us tickets. I had been spending gobs of time with my baby, getting to know her. I was not abandoning my child, I was taking care of myself  for a little while.

I only cried for the first 2 hours of the drive to Arlington. All I could do was picture Winifred’s face and wonder what she and Will were doing. I soaked in the sadness for a moment and let myself feel all my feelings, took a deep breath, and rolled the windows down. Letting the strong winds of the road dry my tears, I began to enjoy my “freedom”.

Our AirB&B was adorable! To be honest, the thought of sleeping in a king sized bed without waking up to every baby noise was a tad bit more exciting than seeing Taylor Swift.  After a quick pumping session, we met up with our friends at a local Arlington brewery for a couple drinks before we got ready for the concert. It was surreal for me to be able to order a drink for myself! It was something I hadn’t done in so long. I almost felt like I was using a fake ID or doing something I wasn’t supposed to, but I moved past that feeling pretty quickly after my first sip of beer. I remember having the best time drinking and laughing with my friends — for a second I forgot I had a baby back home. The mom guilt hit me like a truck. Wow, why was it so easy for me to “forget” my baby? Was that normal? Was I an awful person?? I had to excuse myself to collect myself. In the bathroom I took deep breaths and convinced myself that I was not an awful person. Moms are allowed to still be people. I was allowed to have a few drinks with my friends without my baby being my every thought. I was just being Shannon!! After a nice relaxing afternoon, the girls of the group left to take the first “getting ready” shift at the house.

This was the part I’d been dreading because I’d been living in comfy sweats for the past 6 weeks. My body was in the weird in between stage. I’d managed to lose all the baby weight but no part of my body was the same. Everything was loose, squishy, and not in the same place it was before. I brought clothes I thought I could fit into and would make me feel at least a little bit human. I felt BOMB about my makeup and my spirits were on their way up when it was time to put the clothes to the test. Welp. I’d brought a pair of jean shorts I’d worn pre-pregnancy to about 4 months pregnant. Couldn’t button them. I’d bought a large T-Swift t-shirt that I thought would be super cute. It was too tight and see-through. Sweeeeeeeeeet.  I walked into the other room and my friend said “you look miserable.” She was right, I felt awful about the way I looked. After consulting with the other girls we got me set up with a baggy t-shirt one of them was wearing earlier that day. In the moment I felt better but, after we left, I just wanted to cry. I felt like the frumpy friend. I wanted to just melt into the floor. I had to internalize those insecurities because I knew I would hate myself even more if I let this ruin the most amazing concert ever. I had to be grateful for this body. This body worked its ass off for 9 months to create the most beautiful gift. This body was strong and capable of sustaining life right now! That’s a big deal!! I decided I would be proud of this new body.

Once we got there, my insecurities kind of settled. There were a billion people at Cowboy Stadium and zero of them were worried about what I was wearing or how I looked. We grabbed a beer, found our seats, and the mental math began. “Ok, it’s 7:00 and I pumped at 5:00. Taylor goes on at 8:45 and it will take me about 40 minutes to pump and dump it somewhere. That means I have 1 hour and 45 minutes. Set a timer.  I’ll have to pump again right when we get home.” I came up with this genius plan to try to use a hand pump at my seat and dump the milk into our empty beer bottles to ensure I didn’t miss a minute of music. Definitely my classiest moment. I made an Instagram story about my “pump and dump” concert that I thought was hilarious. However, 10 minutes later my inbox had about 5 messages from other moms telling me how ridiculous that was. They told me it was unnecessary for me to dump it, it’s liquid gold so I should keep it, one beer won’t mess it up so I should save it, and so on. This actually made me feel mad and a little shamed. Yes, I’m well aware that it’s unnecessary to dump your milk after just one beer, , and I know how valuable it is. I know these messages came from a good place and none of them truly meant to shame me. But people, WHERE WAS I SUPPOSED TO STORE THE MILK AT THE CONCERT???? Me dumping one time was not a big deal and frankly, it was no one’s business what I did with my milk. If only they new my freezer was bursting at the seams with saved milk. My funny story was not an invitation for input.  Let mom’s live. Let’s give advice when it’s asked for. Geeeeeeeeze. Ugh, but I digress.

Proof. ^^^^^^^
It came time for me to pump and it was just plain comical. A sight to behold. My sweet friend holding my jacket over my chest so I could lift up my shirt to situate the pump, me casually looking down my shirt and laughing as I attempted to latch the pump.  I tried my best to be discreet but the pump would NOT work. It was too dark for me to see and I didn’t want to flash the little girls in front of us. My window of time was closing, so I grabbed my stuff and bolted to the bathroom during the last song of Camilla Cabello’s set. I managed to snag a stall and set my pump up. A hand pump is no joke, y’all. Ouch.

As I pumped as fast and carefully as I could, a wave of loneliness came over me. This sucked. I’d paid so much to see this concert and all I could think about was my exploding boobs. I was missing out on conversations and experiences in order to pump. I was sad. Tears rolled down my face as I sat there, alone, in a stadium bathroom stall. My friends had no idea what this felt like. I wallowed for a second as the bottle filled with milk. As I sat there with my feelings, the loneliness turned to pride. I was being a mother. I was doing what I had to do to keep my supply up, so I could continue to provide for my baby when I got back. I was proud of myself for that. Of course, I was heartbroken to see the milk literally go down the toilet, but I could let it go. I finished just in time and exited the stall to a completely packed stadium bathroom. I was a little embarrassed to be carrying out my milky pump to rinse, that was until a sweet older lady saw my pump and said “You go girl! Take care of that babe!”. We exchanged a laugh and smile as my embarrassment turned back to pride.

I got to my seat just as Taylor entered the stage and my whole body went numb. I was in the same stadium as Taylor. Freaking. Swift. And I just couldn’t handle it. She was insanely incredible. She put on the most amazing concert experience I’d ever seen. We sang every word, danced to every song, and hung on everything she said. We were #blessed to be on the third row of our section with two rows of tiny humans in front of us, giving us the best view. On the walk back to the house, all we could do was relive each song over and over while talking about our favorite sparkle Taylor outfits. I felt like I was a 6 year old giddy girl after my first N*sync concert! Best.Night.Ever.

I’m so thankful that I went. There were big bumps and I had a LOT of feelings, but I did it. William had a sweet night with Winnie and she was well taken care of. I got some mental and physical rest, while challenging myself. I regret nothing. I managed to be a mom but not ONLY a mom. I was Shannon for a little while and THAT WAS OK!

Morals of the story: Mom guilt is real and you can overcome it. Don’t tell moms what to do with their breast milk. Motherhood can be lonely but you got this. Taylor puts on the best concerts.

When you’re in the postpartum room of the hospital, there is a constant flow of people coming in and out of your room; nurses, doctors, lactation consultants, pediatrician, hearing specialist, hospital photographer, and that awful person who pricks the baby’s heel. The sleep I thought we would get was not going to happen. Although I knew everyone was there to make sure Winifred was healthy and safe, a part of me wondered if anyone was there to help ME out. I mean I did just have a significant tear in my lady parts and I had no idea what I was doing. There was a lovely nurse who gave me the low down on taking care of myself “down there” during my first trip to the restroom. However, a quick tutorial didn’t seem sufficient for what felt like a major situation.

So, with the help of my mom and good ole Google. I gathered supplies to help heal my mind and body from having a human exit me.

Mommy Must-Haves

• Nursing Bras Amazon
  • I love these bras. They are full coverage with tons of support, but don’t give you a uniboob.
• Nursing Pads Bamboobies
  • These are reusable and super absorbent.
• Nipple Cream Honest Brand
  • Made with all the good stuff and heals like a dream.
• Cotton Undies (Target)
  • Full coverage is a must when you have to wear those giant pads
• Peri Bottles Amazon
  • This is a must if you have stitches. Helps you feel clean and relieves itching.
• Dermoplast Pain Relieving Spray Amazon
  • I could not have slept without this stuff. It temporarily numbs you
• Witch Hazel Pads Amazon
  • These were the unsung hero of my recovery. These pads give you cooling relief and help expedite the healing process.
• Perineal Spray Earth Mama Organics
  • Just a few spritzes of this a few times a day!
• Sitz Bath Earth Mama Organics
  • The box gives you several ways to use it and I would recommend each one! The herbs in this product relieved pain, itching, and felt so good. I would use this at night as needed.
• Baby Wipes
  • As weird as it sounds, I used these to dab my area after the Peri Bottle.
• Poise Pads
  •  I found the poise pads worked way better for what I needed them for. They were more full coverage. As I bled less, I just bought the smaller ones.
• Stool Softener
  • Its embarrassing, but you need it. You really really do.

I used most of these products during my extensive bathroom routine. I’m going to share that with you because I had NO clue what to do. Heres how it went.

1. Fill Peri Bottle with warm water
2. Do your business
3. Change pad
4. Put Witch Hazel pads on your pad
5. Use Peri Bottle to clean yourself
6. Dab your area with a baby wipe
7. Dermoplast Spray
8. Perineal Spray

DONE.

Don’t be afraid to ask your nurse questions about your own recovery. If you aren’t in good health, if affects your relationship with your baby and your baby’s health as well. You deserve to be taken care of during the healing process, too.

I was about 30 weeks pregnant when I woke up with an anxiety attack. My eyes opened and I was immediately overwhelmed by the thought of what was about to happen. Not the giving birth or labor part. I had done my research, I had spent countless hours watching birth videos and taking natural childbirth classes. I felt oddly confident in my ability to give birth. It was the rest of it that scared me. I was so concentrated on the birth part that I hadn’t given much thought to my child’s whole entire life.

The “bigness” of it all hit me like a giant wave that came out of nowhere. My thoughts started racing and I couldn’t slow them down. This child is going to grow up. They’re going to interact with other people. They’re going to choose a career. They’re going to VOTE. They’re going to be someone’s significant other. They’re going to be an actual human and it was our job to make sure they were a decent one.

Will woke up to me sobbing over the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” book I had  started reading to calm me down (lol). He held me and reassured me that we could do this. We were both raised by incredible parents. We were both on the same page about big picture child raising. We both already loved the crap out of this baby and everything was going to be ok. “Babe, we don’t have to raise the kid in a day. It will grow slow and we can figure it out”. Those are words I’m still repeating as I hold this tiny future productive member of society.

Because we waited to know the gender, it was hard for me to picture our child’s future or personality. I liked it that way. I couldn’t place any expectations on them. They were going to be who they were going to be, but we had to give them a name. This part came rather easy for us.

We wanted our baby to have an original yet classic name. Not a name that was too out there, but not too trendy. I’ve always been a fan of old fashioned names. Names that have meaning and sound cute on a tiny human but also fit a grown adult. With me being a teacher, we had to think outside the box.

I’d had my girl name picked out since I was 17. I was working at a summer camp with 2nd and 3rd graders. One week, this tiny little nugget with blonde hair and blue eyes came up and asked me what was for breakfast. Y’all she was stinkin’ precious. I asked her what her name was and she said, “Winifred” with the most adorable voice and I was sold. The more I thought about that name, the more I fell in love with it. It was classic and mature, but “Winnie” was perfect for a little girl. I then saw the movie Tuck Everlasting. The main character, played by Alexis Bledel, was named Winifred and they called her Winnie. I just loved it. It solidified the name in my mind. I was so lucky that Will felt the same way.

Her middle name changed a few times. I had originally wanted something like Elizabeth or Margaret, but that would have given her the worlds longest name. So, we knew we had to give her something short and sweet. For some reason I love the way “J” names sound with out last name, so we started there. Jane was our first choice. However, I’d noticed more and more couples using Jane as a middle name. I figured it was about to become the “Marie” of our generation. I was stumped. Searching for another “J” middle name was proving rather difficult until the summer! June. A beautiful and simple name that also happened to be our anniversary month! Boom. Winifred June. Her name was perfect.

I love repeating her name. Screaming it across the house as if she were in trouble, saying good morning to her, coming up with nick names, picturing her principal saying it as she walks across the graduation stage, writing it down, all of it. Naming a human is a huge responsibility, I wanted to get that part right.

The anxiety is still there sometimes as I wonder what she’ll be like. But for now, I’ll hold her, kiss her, love her, and make sure I raise her the best I can.